


evening of little miracles

by Marishna



Series: Advent Calendar 2016 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles, Dentistry, Hurt Stiles, M/M, New Year's Eve, POV Stiles, Pain, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Pre-Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf Pain-Relief Magic, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 04:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8735140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: Stiles didn't admit it to anyone but he had nightmares in the weeks leading up to it that had him blurting out about werewolves and getting his pack killed. Chalk it up to the ever-lingering effects of being possessed by a nogitsune.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Day two of my holiday-based Advent Calendar I'm attempting. Want to claim a day and prompt me with pictures/quotes/Texts from Last Night (big fan of visual prompts)? Click here; http://marishna.livejournal.com/912196.html

Going into Christmas Stiles thought he’d planned everything pretty well. 

He got home from college on a Wednesday, Christmas was on Saturday and by Tuesday he was in the dentist’s chair getting his wisdom teeth out. He thought, “I’ll be able to enjoy Christmas and be recovered by the time I go back to school!” when he made the appointment. 

New Year’s Eve? Right, that thing. 

He made it through the extractions fine. He was groggy for sure, and his dad had to help him up the stairs and into bed, but he didn’t have any embarrassing moments that would end up going viral on YouTube. Stiles didn’t admit it to anyone but he had nightmares in the weeks leading up to it that had him blurting out about werewolves and getting his pack killed. Chalk it up to the ever-lingering effects of being possessed by a nogitsune.

Scott texted him first a couple days before, _Plans for NYE?_

Stiles blinked groggily at his phone from where he was sprawled on the couch, blearily watching bad reality TV through a haze of painkillers that only took the edge off the ache.

_Doubtful. Cant drive on meds &cant drink._

_Sucks_ , Scott texted back.

Stiles typed out, _Yah_ before dozing off, phone in one hand and remote in the other. When his dad got home from his shift he gently shook Stiles awake and followed him up the stairs, lest he fall back down.

Lydia called him on New Year’s Eve day. “Want us to bring the party to you?”

Stiles sighed and mumbled, “Nah. I d’know if I’ll even b’wake ‘til midnight.”

Lydia tsked. “Some of us have evolved beyond needing wisdom teeth to be extracted.”

“Some of us don’t have super powers, Lyds,” Stiles replied with a snort. 

“I’ll stop by to see you tomorrow,” she promised in a softer tone. “Feel better.”

“Thanks,” Stiles replied tiredly, feeling another wave of drowsiness creeping in at the edges of his mind.

Later in the evening Stiles had his own celebration involving a pint of plain vanilla ice cream and the _Die Hard_ movies ready to go. He was fighting the pain to avoid taking another pill that would definitely knock him out before he could see the Times Square ball drop.

The house phone rang and Stiles groaned as loudly as possible without moving his mouth. He rolled off the couch and padded into the kitchen to grab the handset. 

“‘Lo?”

There was a pause. “Stiles?”

“D’rek?” Stiles’ jaw was throbbing, distracting him enough that he felt confused and unable to focus.

“Is your dad home?”

“No, w’king o’ernight,” Stiles got out, wincing at effort it took to speak.

“Are you okay?” Derek asked, sounding concerned.

“Got wis’m teeth out,” Stiles replied. “Hurts.”

“Oh,” was all Derek said.

“I’ll tell hi’ you called,” Stiles said. Derek made a noncommittal sound so Stiles shrugged and hung up. He would normally enjoy speaking with Derek and catching up with him, maybe flirting a bit to see if Derek would respond but all Stiles wanted was to be blissfully unconscious. He slumped down on the couch and pressed the ice cream container gently to his swollen cheek in hopes it would calm the pain.

He got about a half hour into _Die Hard_ before he could tell the pain lessened enough to pull the ice cream away from his face. He swore under his breath as he reached for the pill bottle. There weren’t enough frozen things in the world to make him feel better.

He was popping the lid off the pill bottle but a knock at the front door distracted him and it fell under the couch. 

“Shiiiiiiiiit,” Stiles moaned, feeling like he could cry. He debated ignoring whoever it was but obviously his dad didn’t lock it when he left for work and Stiles heard it open.

“Stiles?” 

“D’erk?” 

Derek stepped into the doorway of the living room carrying a couple bags, looking a bit grim but with a tinge of hope. 

“I brought you soup,” Derek said simply. 

“Dude,” Stiles breathed. “Y’didn’t ha’ to.”

Derek frowned, staring hard at Stiles’ jaw. “I thought you might want the company.”

Stiles didn’t say anything, just pushed himself up to sitting as best he could and patted the couch beside him. Derek sat down, bringing the bags with him and unpacked them on the coffee table. Stiles recognized the take out containers from Nana’s Diner on the other side of town. Stiles hummed his satisfaction at the sight and got an easy smile back from Derek. 

He reached for the bottle of pills he abandoned before letting Derek in, then frowned down at the floor where the lid fell. Derek looked down as well, then glanced at Stiles.

“What are you looking for?”

“The lid,” Stiles said while jiggling the container, pills rattling about. “Need to take one.”

Derek reached out for the bottle and took it from Stiles gently. He put it on the coffee table and urged Stiles to lean back.

“I could smell your pain as soon as I walked in. I can help you and it’ll be faster,” Derek offered. 

Stiles remembered the way Scott’s hand felt warm on his skin on the few occasions Stiles needed supernaturally enhanced pain relief. He nodded and slumped into the cushions, eager for any release from the throbbing in his jaw. 

Derek turned on the couch to be better situated beside Stiles, then reached out to carefully cup his jaw. Stiles sighed as soon as Derek made contact. Where Scott’s hands had been warm on his skin Derek’s were blissfully cool. Stiles could feel the aching burn in his gums start to recede immediately and Stiles felt his whole body relax and melt into the couch.

“I figured you were going to be out with Scott or at a party tonight. Maybe that you would have gone back to school to spend it with your friends there,” Derek said quietly but his words rang crystal clear to Stiles who felt his head clear for the first time in days. “Your dad’s got me looking into old case files for him, things that might have been caused by someone from outside the town who were passing through. There’s obviously nothing that can be done in those cases legally but I can ask some questions with people I have connections to and maybe put a case together to be judged on our side.”

Stiles let his eyes roam across Derek’s face, taking in the way his eyes ran across Stiles as he pulled the pain from his body and how his eyebrows relaxed and furrowed as he got each wave. Derek’s lips were soft and full as he spoke, filling Stiles in on working with the Sheriff and how it was a painful but necessary part of using his experiences to help other people affected by non-human drama. 

Stiles listened to Derek closely, too blissed out on relief to need to do anything else. He didn’t even want to engage in conversation for once; Derek filling the silence so easily was an experience in itself he wanted to enjoy. 

After a few minutes Derek looked Stiles straight in the eye. “Think you can eat now?”

Stiles didn’t let out a sound when Derek pulled his hands back even though he wanted to chase the feeling and instead he nodded. Derek nodded and sat back on the couch properly--but he didn’t move away. He handed Stiles his soup with a soft bun on the side that Stiles did whimper at because he hadn’t had more than broth since before the extractions. 

Derek watched Stiles with an amused expression as he dipped the bun into the soup to soften it up even more. Stiles couldn’t bring himself to care how stupid he likely looked as soon as the dripping bread touched his tongue and he experienced the perfect explosion of flavor from Nana’s soup.

“That good, huh?” Derek asked, ignoring his own soup to keep watching Stiles.

“You have no idea,” Stiles replied once he swallowed and wanted to cry at how effortless speaking was. He could still feel the slight swollenness of his cheeks but he felt no edges of pain on his periphery and it was so much more than he could get from just the pills. 

“Might end up keeping you here until I go back to school,” Stiles mumbled before focusing fully on his soup. 

He didn’t even notice Derek didn’t say anything back.

***

Stiles didn’t remember dozing off sometime during _Die Hard 2_ but it wasn’t hard to believe considering how calm and relaxed he was. Somehow as they watched the movies Derek and Stiles were cuddled into each other with Stiles somewhat leaning into Derek’s lap. At one point Derek huffed beside him and maneuvered Stiles onto his side with Derek behind him, arm slung over Stiles’ hip. It’s the last clear memory Stiles could pick out before letting his eyes drift shut.

Later when he tried to recall the full evening he could come up with the sound of people cheering, probably from the ball drop. He felt a blanket fall on him and be carefully tucked around him. And as the cheers turned into a countdown chant he felt a strong arm tighten around his waist and the brush of soft lips against his swollen cheek.


End file.
